


Maybe i dreamt you (thanks for the straight teeth then)

by cabeswaterss



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Dream Magic, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pynch au, Tarot, The Raven Cycle AU, niche interests on the part of the author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-12 15:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabeswaterss/pseuds/cabeswaterss
Summary: Henrietta, Germany is haunted by spirits, legends, magic, you name it. It’s a place where it always seems like something’s on the edge of happening. This ‘something’ might be finding the ancient Welsh king Glendower who’s supposed to grant a wish to whoever wakes him from his slumber. Or, it could be falling in love. Either way, there’s something supernatural going on, and Matteo and David are definitely involved. One a dreamer and the other a magician.A Raven Cycle/Pynch AU that no one asked for





	1. seven of cups

Often, Matteo Florenzi didn’t sleep. It was accepted knowledge by now, but that didn’t make it any less inconvenient. Every muscle in his body ached, even though he hadn’t so much as left Monmouth today, and he felt heavy with the aching of it. And foggy. His mind was all fogged up, like the windows of a car when it’s too warm inside. Or when someone is hotboxing.

At this moment, either could be a fitting allegory for Matteo’s mind, as he laid in the incubation box that was his bed, high out of his mind. He had thought maybe a smoke would help him sleep. A joint before bed, like a sleeping pill, a growing addiction. Jonas hadn’t noticed the habit yet, since he usually fell asleep first, and Matteo intended to keep it that way. He had everything under control, and even if he didn’t, Jonas had more important things to worry about than his fucked-up friend, like finding Glendower wherever he slept under Henrietta.

Matteo was right, at least. Another half of a joint and he finally slipped languidly into––

A forrest. Filled with moonlight from an unseen source. Full of light, yet dark at every edge. A wind rustled past him, through his hair, through the branches of the dense trees. They whispered to him––the trees––in Latin. Murmuring like a waterless brook in his ears. Cabeswater.

This wasn’t the first time Matteo had been here, in fact it was maybe the thousandth. That was another reason why Matteo was so frequently tired. When it wasn’t the insomnia, it was the dreams. His room overflowed with the proof. Sometimes he conjured the objects, but sometimes they came to him.

Despite the fact that he wasn’t still high in this dreamworld, his mind felt like it was full of cotton. As usual, Matteo was full of wanting; he was split open by it, and Cabeswater thrummed with open-palmed promises. _You can have it if you want it._ But, as usual, Matteo didn’t know what he wanted. So he just wandered, drifting from the edges of the clearing to the middle, then down a path among the trees that was narrow, but well-worn, and relatively clear of branches. He let his fingers trail across anything he could reach as he went, caressing tree trunks, bushes, flower petals.

The trees continued to speak to him in tongues, but he just let the words flow over him like he was another stone in the river. He was too tired to translate tonight. The voices seemed to be getting louder, though, so he stopped. Kneeled to the ground. Reached out his hand to find softness in a mossy rock, Suddenly, the letters tumbled from his lips: _manibus_.

As his eyes fell shut, his hands closed around something. Softness becoming fluid, then becoming solid and smooth. He didn’t need to see it to know what it was.

He woke up.

***

Matteo wished he’d stayed in bed. Even wandering aimlessly around Cabeswater would be better than this biology class. He thought he might be able to will himself back into unconsciousness with the force of how far he rolled his eyes into the back of his head as the biology teacher at the front of the room droned on about cellular respiration. His head made a dull thud as he let it fall against the table top. The noise and the vibration got the attention of the person sitting beside him: Amira.

“Matteo,” she hissed. She tilted her head at him minutely, her eyes still forward, focused on whatever the teacher was writing on the whiteboard. 

“Amira,” he mocked in reply. It’s muffled though, since his head is still against the table.

“You’re not paying attention, and we have a test on this next week.”

Matteo just turned his head towards her so his cheek rested on the table top instead of his forehead. He didn’t know what more she wanted from him, he was here wasn’t he?

“Don’t worry, I’m the resident genius, remember? I’ll ace it.”

It was Amira’s turn to roll her eyes, but she gave up on the impossible task of getting Matteo to actually pay attention. Matteo stared out the window past Amira’s head until the bell rang, signalling the end of the day.

Sighing, Matteo slung his backpack over his shoulder and waited for Amira. After getting roughly four hours of sleep last night, all he wanted to do was collapse into bed––but he knew Jonas wouldn’t be having any of that.

As he and Amira walked out of the classroom shoulder to shoulder, Amira took the opportunity to dig into him again. “Don’t expect me to carry your ass when we study this weekend for this test.”

Matteo huffed, “You’re so tiny, I wouldn’t expect you to be able to carry me anyway.” He just received a hmph in response. They would discuss this again later, he was sure.

As they reached the parking lot, they were met with the sun glinting off of the Pig, Jonas’s bright orange Camaro. It was almost as blinding as Jonas’s energy today, it seemed. It was electric, and everyone standing around the Pig could feel it. Got a little high on it.

“I swear, you guys, this is _it_ this time. I’ve gotten the coordinates right,” Jonas insisted, his hands gesturing frantically as he spoke. “We’re going tonight, at midnight, so I hope you all got a good night’s sleep last night.”

Matteo groaned. He cared about finding Glendower almost as much as Jonas, but he had really wanted to keep his date with his bed. His melodramatics earned the attention of the fourth member of their group, though. A musical, slightly stifled, laugh fell on Matteo’s ears, and he followed the sound to its owner.

Matteo’s face felt warm at the sight of David’s scrunched up nose and twinkly eyes as they shared this private joke over Jonas’s enthusiasm. They both shook their heads, just enough for each other to see. Not that Jonas was paying attention to them anyway. The corners of Matteo’s own lips quirked into a ghost of a smile as he dropped his gaze to his shoes.

On the way down, however, he let his gaze graze over David’s figure. Of course, they were all wearing the same thing: the Aglionby Academy uniform, white button-downs under a navy vest with the school’s crest, a red and blue striped tie, dark slacks. On Jonas, the uniform just fit, like he was born in it. On David, it looked well-worn––second-hand but well-fitting, precisely kept, without a thread of out place.

Matteo, however, wore it like he didn’t care (he didn’t). His tie knot was sloppy, and he didn’t bother to tuck it into his vest; his shirtsleeves were haphazardly pushed up to his elbows; his pants were as ill-fitting as he could get away with. He liked to let people know he didn’t care, then, at least, they knew what they were getting in to.

Still, despite the sameness of their outfits and the sameness of this day with all the other days of the school year, Matteo thought David looked unfairly good today. David leaned against the Camaro somewhat carefully, like he was scared of scratching the paint, as if the Pig wasn’t already some piece of junk. With his dark, swept-back hair and easy smile, he looked like the kind of person you could imagine seeing driving around with the top down, but the way he held himself made you think twice. David was much more careful than most of the boys at Aglionby. He didn’t break things recklessly, just because he could. No, David fixed things.

At that thought, Matteo remembered his dream from the night before and the weight in his pocket. So as Amira and Jonas huddled together over a map Jonas had apparently produced from the Pig, and he filled her in on information Matteo didn’t care to know at the moment, Matteo moved to stand next to David against the Camaro. Their shoulders knocked together as he did, sending tiny jolts down to Matteo’s fingertips. He clenched them against his palms to stop the energy from escaping to where David could see it.

“Na?” He looked into David’s eyes, finding a calmness in their darkness that reminded him of Cabeswater.

“Hey,” David smiled, tilting his head.

“I have something for you.” The other boy looked at him quizzically as Matteo fished the small tin container from his pocket. Their fingers brushed as he passed David the gift.

“Is this weed?” David joked, but there was an edge to his voice that betrayed that he was seriously considering the other boy would conduct a drug deal in the parking lot of their school in broad daylight.

“No, asshole,” Matteo rolled his eyes, “Though maybe I should give you weed since you’re always stealing drags from my joints.”

“You could spare a couple puffs,” David pointed out, still rubbing the tin between his fingers, as if he could divine what was inside if he held it long enough. “What is it then?”

Matteo broke eye contact, finding the gravel very interesting again. He kicked it a bit. “It’s for your hands.”

He snuck a look up at David in time to catch the other boy’s quirked eyebrow.

“Since it’s cold out,” Matteo explained, “and you’re always drawing or working on this piece of shit Jonas calls a car, and you don’t own a fucking pair of gloves.” David just stared at him, and Matteo shrugged. He looked at the ground again.

“Thank you.”

Matteo shoved his hands back into his now-empty pockets as a kind of “it was nothing” response. Something else was at the tip of his tongue, but David didn’t know about his dreams yet, so he kept the thought behind his lips. Let it dissolve there.

“Yo, _jungs_!” Jonas called, recapturing David and Matteo’s attention. He waved them over, his eyes not leaving the map spread out over the hood of the Pig. The two boys settled on the side opposite of Jonas. Amira, her arms crossed over her chest, gave Matteo a knowing look he didn’t like before turning her attention back to Jonas, who was speaking again.

“There have been a bunch of unusual energy surges along the ley line to the north of Henriette,” Jonas explained, tapping his finger against the map, “enough to even cause some very brief power outages in the houses there. I hope that if we walk the path of the ley line, maybe we’ll find something.”

Jonas lifted his eyes to meet David’s, then Matteo’s, finally resting on Amira as he added, “Or be led to something.”

Amira, with her unique psychic powers, was known to amplify the energy of others, so if sparks were already flying, her presence could be enough to make a flame, so to speak. Maybe something would be triggered or opened or something. They could only hope.

With plans to meet at a set of coordinates at midnight that night, the gang split up. Matteo and Jonas clambered into the Pig, while David and Amira mounted their respective bikes. Matteo caught David’s eye as he started to pedal away. David smiled at him––maybe even winked––and Matteo had to pretend that his blush was from the cold March wind, even though they’d been pale moments ago.

***

Matteo and Jonas lived together in the abandoned building that was once Monmouth Manufacturing. They never found out what it had manufactured, but it didn’t matter; it worked well as a makeshift home. While Jonas had lived at Monmouth since he’d arrived in Henrietta a couple years ago, Matteo had only moved in about nine months ago, after his mom had gotten bad and his dad had fucked off. Even though Monmouth was just an odd patchwork of exposed concrete, Jonas’s dozens of maps, a bathroom with a fridge, and secondhand furniture that couldn’t begin to claim to fill the towering space...it was a home for these two boys.

Well, and Linn, who was a mildly depressed ghost. Long story short, someone else’s search for Glendower had cost her her life, but the ley lines had somehow kept her essence here. So she resided in Monmouth with Jonas and Matteo, a smudgy presence that Matteo appreciated as somewhat of a kindred spirit. Sometimes Matteo felt more like ghost than human even though he still had a heartbeat.

As soon as Matteo stumbled into the gray, high-ceiled building, he threw himself onto his mattress, which was on the floor, surrounded by tangled blankets, stray pillows, some empty beer bottled, and ashtrays full of spent joints and cigarettes. Home sweet home. Chainsaw, a slim black cat with dark amber eyes, mewed at Matteo’s crumpled form before climbing into bed with him. Matteo had pulled her from his dreams as well.

Jonas, like the golden boy he was, strolled in, took a seat at his desk, and opened his calculus textbook. Matteo couldn’t muster up the energy to even pretend to do his homework. Instead, he slept as the later afternoon sunlight filtered in through the grimy windows high above his head.


	2. seven of pentacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing about Matteo was that at the same time that he looked like the softest thing in the world, he was also a knife...
> 
> Or, at least, that’s how David saw it. He wasn’t sure yet, though, in which direction those daggers were pointed––at others or at Matteo.
> 
> [gays be like... hands]

David biked with Amira to 300 Fox Way since it was on the way to his place anyway. They pedaled in comfortable silence through the quiet streets of Henrietta. It was like that between them; even though they hadn’t known each other for long, there was a silent understanding that connected them. Amira’s power was that she made things louder for others, and although David wasn’t psychic––so her abilities had no effect on him––he couldn’t help but feel like Amira made him feel quieter. Being around her settled his mind, just a little.

When they pulled up to the bright blue house where the Mahmoods lived, Amira turned to him and asked, “Would you like to come inside for some tea?”

David just smiled graciously, though, and shook his head. “Danke, but I think I’m going to head home. Need to change clothes before work.”

Amira’s soft smile in return was understanding. “See you tonight, then.”

Ten minutes later, David arrived at the trailer park, his wheels stuttering over the grass and uneven dirt. He slowed to a stop outside of the mobile house with the rusty 0111 numbers on the door. After propping his bike against the trailer and securing it with a lock, he pushed open the door of his place. Quite literally pushed. He had to learn a good bit of his weight on it before it gave. He’s always a little afraid that it’ll break in two before it opens, but just as that thought crosses his mind is when it usually gives way.

David moved across the small space quickly, familiarly, shucking his Aglionby uniform in favor of some old jeans and a ratty t-shirt. No need to dress up just to get motor oil all over himself. Briefly he was once again grateful that he’d somehow, finally, been able to save up enough money to afford top surgery last year. Without anyone’s help but his own. Not that he would’ve wanted it any other way. Really, he was glad that he’d gotten it done before he had met Jonas, or else Jonas would have _insisted_ on paying for it, and David couldn’t have himself indebted to someone like that. In any case, now he didn’t have to wear his binder for the long hours at school followed by even longer hours doing manual labor, then wandering the hills surrounding Henrietta. He could just, breathe. Physically, at least.

After grabbing a hoodie for later and throwing on his jacket, he was on his bike once again, this time heading for the auto shop. He probably wouldn’t be back until at least two in the morning, but that was fine with him. David tried to spend as little time in the trailer as possible; it’s not like it was much of a home.

 _Where do you live?_ Matteo had asked when they first met.  


_A place made for leaving._

He put his headphones in and pedaled away from the rows of identical mobile homes.

***

David enjoyed working at Boyd’s Body & Paint, LLC. The hours were long, but the pay was decent, and his only interpersonal interactions were when his boss told him a new client’s car was in. Plus, David liked working with his hands. He relished in the feeling of accomplishment, especially the tangibility of rearranging the cars’ insides and seeing them drive off completely fixed.

And, in any case, this job offered a more steady income than making art would. He can’t say he didn’t miss it––between classes and homework, his job and the search for Glendower, he hardly had any time to draw anymore. But sometimes it felt like being a mechanic was just a different form of being an artist. Closer to being a sculptor, perhaps. He could pretend.

David was just rescrewing an oil cap onto a Subaru when Laura, his boss, clapped him on the shoulder.

“Take a break, David,” she smiled. “You’ve been here for three hours, have worked on ten cars, and haven’t even taken a water break yet. I know, because seventy percent of my job is to watch you.”

“Yeah, okay,” he relented, his mouth tugging into a smile. Laura, whose hand was still on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze before going back to the front of the shop to greet someone who’d just walked in.

After doing his best to wipe some of the grease off his hands and arms, David flopped down onto the couch in the “staff lounge,” aka an old leather couch and coffee table pushed against the wall farthest from the cars and machinery. He realized, then, as every muscle in his body sighed in relief, that he hadn’t properly sat down since he’d gotten here. Sighing, he pulled a water bottle and a sandwich out of his knapsack.

As he did, something rolled out of the sideways bag at the shuffling of its contents. David had to move quickly to keep it from escaping onto the floor, snatching it as it reached the each of the cushion. The tin Matto had given him. David studied the container; it was flat and round, about the size of his palm. Engraved along the side was the word _manibus_ in a script way too nice to have been done by Matteo, yet he didn’t see any kind of brand name, label, or price tag on it either. Curious.

Although David knew a bit Latin, this phrase wasn't familiar to him. But he did remember what Matteo had said as their fingers brushed: “For your hands.”

He twisted off the top of the container. It was a creamy balm that looked almost like a wickless candle. Scooping out a small amount, David experimentally rubbed it on the knuckles of his left hand. Coolness spread across his skin, and he could feel the angry, dry cracks being soothed. He closed his eyes; it smelled like the rain, and not in that artificial way that candles or air fresheners did. It smelled real, as if someone had stood in a storm and distilled the collected rain water into something solid.

Perplexed, but body too tired for his mind to linger on it right now, David finished his sandwich and water while listening to the grinding, clunking sounds of the garage. As he wiped his hands on a napkin, his gaze fell to the metal container again. He applied some of the balm to both of his hands and got back to work.

He thought about thunderstorms for the rest of the evening. He thought about standing in the rain.

***

The sun had been gone for hours already when David left Boyd’s. He still had a couple hours to kill before meeting up with the rest of the group, though, so he stopped by Nino’s for some food and a table to do homework on.

“Hey, David,” Carlos greeted him from behind the diner counter. “The usual?”

David nodded, “Yeah, thanks Carlos.”

“No problem, brudi. Coming right up.”

David’s usual was a slice of pepperoni pizza and a black coffee. It’s not that he thought it was a particularly good combination, but it’s what he needed on late nights like these to keep him going. He chose a booth by the window and spread out his books on the table.

He was careful not to get any pizza grease on his assignments.

 

When David arrived at the location of the coordinates, the Pig was already there. Which meant that Jonas and Matteo were already there. As he pulled up to the car, he saw Jonas pacing back and forth in the triangle of light that the Camaro’s headlights cast. His thumb pressed to his lips in his characteristic tick. Meanwhile, Matteo’s silhouette slumped against the passenger-side door for support, a cigarette hanging between his slender fingers.

“Na,” David greeted, leaning his bike against the car.

“Hey.” Matteo raised his gaze from the ground to look at him. Smoke curled from between his lips as he spoke. Jonas didn’t stop pacing, and David wasn’t sure if he’d noticed David had arrived.

Matteo offered David the cigarette; from his slouched position, Matteo had to look up to meet the other boy’s eyes. In the darkness, Matteo’s blue eyes looked gray, just like the tendrils framing his face. David wasn’t one to smoke––it wasn’t a habit he could afford, literally––but who was he to say no to one puff? Matteo had already paid for the cigarette, and he was smoking it anyway. He plucked the offering gingerly from Matteo’s outstretched hand. He made sure their fingers made as little contact as possible. Always careful.

“Everything good?” David asked, bringing the cig to his lips as he took in Matteo’s rumpled appearance. He looked like he had just woken up: his hair a soft tangle against his forehead, his eyes heavy and hooded, and his hoodie swallowing him. Not that he didn’t always kind of look like that.

“Yeah,” Matteo shrugged, breaking eye contact to watch Jonas’s cyclic movements, “I’m– you know.”

David nodded, even though Matteo wasn’t looking at him anymore. He took this opportunity to study the other boy’s profile, which was caught in the contrast between the high-beam light and the midnight darkness. The thing about Matteo was that at the same time that he looked like the softest thing in the world, he was also a knife. The sharpness glinted off his jawline, his collarbone, the slope of his shoulders. Even more, it was in his actions; the boy had a reckless streak in him that manifested in the flashing of imaginary daggers at his every move. His body was a blade.

Or, at least, that’s how David saw it. He wasn’t sure yet, though, in which direction those daggers were pointed––at others or at Matteo.

“What about you?” The return of Matteo’s voice startled David a bit, and his eyes flitted to the side briefly in a lame attempt to pretend he hadn’t been staring. Usually, David was good at looking without being noticed for looking. But here he was, caught at knifepoint.

Still, he leveled his eyes cooly at Matteo’s as he replied, “Good. Thank you for the balm or lotion or whatever it was, by the way. It really helped.” David felt his mouth curl into a smile. “Where did you get that?”

Matteo opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Jonas’s exclamation of, “Amira!!”

David and Matteo both looked up in the direction that Jonas was hailing. Amira swung off her bike even as it rolled to a stop. “Evening, boys.”

“Alright,” Jonas started as they all gathered around the Camaro once more, “I was thinking we could split up. Even though Amira’s what might trigger something, as long as she’s in the general vicinity of the ley line, I figure it should have the same effect, no? Plus, it’ll save us time to cover two directions at once.”

“And what exactly are we looking for, again?” Amira raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like tonight was the first time Jonas had dragged them out of bed to wander around the woods of Henrietta, but it’d still be nice to have an objective.

Jonas’s eyes glimmered in the dim light. “I’ve been reading about something called the Dreaming Tree. If someone steps into it, it can show you visions of the future. Maybe we can use that to find out where Glendower is.”

“Uhh,” it was Matteo’s turn to sound skeptical, “How can a tree that shows you things from the future help us locate something from the past?”

“Well,” Jonas was prepared with an answer, “following the reasoning that we’re still searching in the future, we’ve presumably made more progress by then, so maybe these visions could give us clues as to what those future steps have to be. Y’know, like if someone were walking a route ahead of you and you discovered what their location is. Now all you have to do is trace the route from your current location to theirs.”

“I guess that _kind of_ makes sense,” Amira admitted. “Can we be done by 2am though, please? If it’s just a tree, it’ll be there tomorrow and the next day, too.”

Matteo let out a snort at this comment, and David’s attention was again drawn to him. He was more careful this time in his noticing of Matteo, looking up through his eyelashes as his eyes remained downcast, and his head was tilted in the direction of Amira and Jonas. Careful, always careful. David didn’t like to take more than he felt he deserved, and every glance at Matteo felt like taking too much. So David tried to only take sips, small ones here or there.

“Yeah, yeah, we can set a timer,” Jonas assured her. “You can even come with me to make sure I stick to it, alright?” Jonas turned to David and Matteo at this junction to say, “Are you two good to go together?”

David frowned a little at tone of this question. He knew when people were treading carefully. Was there some reason David wasn’t aware of for why it _wouldn’t_ be okay? Did Matteo have an issue with him? If he did, then why had he given David a gift earlier? If anyone knew Matteo’s thoughts, it would be Jonas. All of David’s spiraling thoughts were quelled, however, at Matteo’s easy reply of, “Sure.”

As Jonas produced two dowsing rods from the Camaro, they agreed to meet back here in an hour and a half. Forty-five minutes out, forty-five back. If any of them besides Jonas owned watches, they probably would’ve synced them. Jonas loved that kind of shit.

The headlights of the Pig went dead, leaving them in complete darkness for the supple seconds it took for their eyes to adjust to the starlight. David and Amira, ever the sensible ones, produced flashlights. Amira even handed a second one to Jonas. Matteo fumbled to turn on the one built into his phone. With a nod, they stole away in opposite directions into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, hmu @azaraeth if you have any questions about what the fuck is going on lol


	3. page of cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "David’s voice faded out, warping at the edges, like Matteo was underwater. It wasn’t that he was no longer sitting in the tree; he was still vaguely aware of the curved walls of the trunk around him and the cold forest floor under him. Instead, it felt a bit like how it did when he woke up from his dreams after having taken something out: he was both inside his body and outside of it, a split consciousness slightly misaligned from his physical form."
> 
> Matteo has a vision, and he's not sure what to make of it.

Matteo remembered the first time he saw David. In some ways, though, it feels more like a dream than a memory. Or perhaps, a memory that had since been made into a dream.

Summer was stretching itself into fall, and the school year had just begun. Both the Henrietta heat and the weight of the impending homework assignments felt oppressive on Matteo’s skin. He and Jonas were perched on a windowsill, gothic and solid with old-money like the rest of Aglionby Academy, waiting for the first bell to ring. A death toll, if you will.

Jonas was going on about Glendower again, and Matteo half-listened to him as he looked out the window at the courtyard and parking lot below them, making noncommittal noises at the appropriate junctures. The cool surface of the windowpane, not yet warmed by the newly-risen sun, soothed Matteo’s temple as he leaned against it. He was glad for its support, especially after his whole body threatened to liquidate when his eyes landed on a boy across the yard.

The boy was gently guiding his bicycle towards the front of the school, where the bike racks were. For all intents and purposes, he was indistinguishable from any other Aglionby boy. Same vest, same blazer, same pants. But this boy was new, and not only that, but he was different. Matteo could tell. Most Aglionby boys didn’t ride bikes, and even fewer of them rode bikes that didn’t gleam like a new Mustang, and they certainly didn’t handle well-used bikes with the attentiveness that this boy was.

After Matteo processed all of this, he immediately noticed that the boy was handsome. Handsome in a way Aglionby boys weren’t. Aglionby boys looked like Calvin Klein models or politicians or both; perfectly tanned and quaffed, just one campaign donation away from being elected. But the hands that guided the bike looked like they were meant to hold things, not to recklessly break them. Meanwhile, his face didn’t hold any trace of arrogance or smug disdain or smug anything. It was wide open. And it was a very nice face at that. Olive and intelligent and––

The bell’s loud tolling vibrated Matteo’s whole head, shattering the dream. Matteo felt like he needed to sit down, but he already was, so instead he just sank lower against the window frame. He closed his eyes, disappearing the bike boy. Matteo wasn’t sure how much credence he put in God anymore, what with everything that had happened to his mom, but maybe… maybe He would give him just this one thing if Matteo asked…

_Please._

He felt Jonas bump his knee with a fist, “Matteo, bro, class is about to start.”

Later, as he sat in class translating Latin nouns, he wondered what the boy’s name was.

Fortunately, it took him less than twenty-four hours to find out. During lunch the following day, Jonas strode up to where Matteo was lounging––having stretched himself atop a picnic table outside––but, unlike usual, he wasn’t alone. 

“Matteo, this is David,” Jonas blurted excitedly as Matteo hauled himself up into a sitting position. “He’s in my history class, and he’s going to help us find Glendower.” Matteo wasn’t sure what those two clauses had to do with each other, but he didn’t ask. He was too distracted by the fact that bike boy––David––was currently extending his hand to him, and he was meant to take it.

“Hey,” David said softly. 

Matteo took his hand as he met David’s eyes. His impossibly brown eyes. “Hey.”

***

That had been nearly eight months ago.

By now, Matteo had perfected the ability to wax poetic about David and his well-worked hands and his perfect floppy hair. In his head, silently, of course. Admittedly, it was pretty awful poetry, but Matteo had never claimed to be a poet. It was pretty easy to do, though, since he now saw David every day in History, or between classes, or while they pursued Jonas’s magical quest together with Amira. Sometimes David even turned up in his dreams, or things associated with David, like the hand cream.

Cabeswater knew what Matteo wanted, even if Matteo couldn’t admit it when he was awake.

What Matteo _knew_ , though, was that David couldn’t be interested in him. Partly because Matteo didn’t trust himself enough not to fuck up anything that was more than friendship with David, and partly because he was pretty sure David had a thing for Amira or something. Since she had joined their crew, he always had his arm around her or was laughing at something she said.

 _Amira isn’t here now, though,_ some quiet voice in Matteo’s head helpfully reminded him. He shushed it.

The boys walked side by side in silence; the only thing filling the air around them was their fogged breath. Matteo didn’t find this to be uncomfortable, however. Occasionally, their shoulders knocked together, and, really, that in itself felt like a conversation.

After awhile, David ventured to ask, “So… we’re looking for a tree? Do we even know what kind of tree it’s supposed to be?” They did not.

Of course David would think to actually consider tree species. Well, it was likely that Jonas had thought of this, too, but Matteo certainly had not thought to ask him.

“Maybe we’ll just know it when we see it,” Matteo proposed. “Maybe it will glow or sing or some shit.” He did jazz hands with some added finger wiggling to indicate the magic.

David laughed, “Are you suggesting that the tree is going to _serenade_ us?”

“Who’s to say? Something or someone always seems to be singing in mythology, so why not a tree?” Matteo didn’t say anything about the tongued trees that crooned in Latin in his dreams.

David just shook his head, but his lips were pursed in a half-contained smile.

“Well how do you think we’ll know which one it is?” Matteo countered, bumping their shoulders together intentionally this time.

“It will probably look different than the other trees,” David considered slowly. “Stranger, or a bit off.”

“Like roots made of snakes?”

David’s laugh was a musical thing in the night. He didn’t grace Matteo’s suggestion with a response, though, and they settled back into relative silence.

As they walked, they had been using their flashlights to sweep the trees around them, exposing each one to the light of scrutiny. Occasionally, one of them would ask the other if a particular tree seemed especially “magical” or if it was just a trick courtesy of their tiredness or the imagination that arrives at night.

Another thing Matteo didn’t mention to David was how the forest here reminded him a bit of the one from his dreams. Not that they spoke Latin or anything, but… there was something about the way everything seemed to lean in towards them just a bit. Something about the air felt just this side of electric. Or maybe he was just asleep on his feet.

Just as Matteo was about to suggest that they start heading back to their meeting place, David threw out an arm into Matteo’s chest, bringing them both to a stop.

“Wait. That one over there.”

Matteo followed the beam of David’s flashlight to a large, twisted tree on their left. The area immediately around the tree was oddly scarce, as if decades ago someone had pruned a wide circle around it that had now become overgrown enough to seem reasonably natural. The tree itself was massive, maybe three arm-spans around, with knots double the size of Matteo’s fist lodged in the trunk and branches as thick as his leg.

But it was the trunk that was the strangest aspect. It had split open on one side, like a curtain pulled open. At the bottom of the trunk, where the roots began to meet the ground, there was a huge cavern, large enough for a person to sit comfortably inside the tree.

Matteo huffed. “Yeah, that’s definitely different.”

He fumbled with his phone and called Jonas. It was 1:21AM.

***

Amira was a bit annoyed that they had discovered the tree only thirty-nine minutes shy of freedom, but she had agreed when Jonas had told Matteo and David that they would meet them there soon. Matteo could just imagine her resolve dissolving at the sight of Jonas’s little excited dance. They all knew she was secretly a big softie.

While they waited for the other two, Matteo and David began to investigate the tree themselves. As David circled the trunk warily, Matteo reached out to trace the grooves in the bark with his fingertips. The wooden surface seemed impossibly smooth for a tree in the middle of the forest. No, this was more like something you’d see at the top of a mountain or in the desert––somewhere the wind could wear down all the rough edges. There was something timeless about this tree, Matteo concluded, as if it had been here much longer than any of the trees around it, before the entire forest maybe, even.

He let the full span of his palm slide against the trunk as he bent to peer into the cavernous opening. It was tall enough for someone to sit cross-legged inside. He felt like maybe… it was beckoning him inside. He lowered himself further to the ground, edging closer to the entrance. Again, Matteo had the sensation that this place was like Cabeswater, that something was trying to speak to him. As he crouched inside the tree, he could imagine that he heard whispers…

“Matteo? What are yo––”

David’s voice faded out, warping at the edges, like Matteo was underwater. It wasn’t that he was no longer sitting in the tree; he was still vaguely aware of the curved walls of the trunk around him and the cold forest floor under him. Instead, it felt a bit like how it did when he woke up from his dreams after having taken something out: he was both inside his body and outside of it, a split consciousness slightly misaligned from his physical form.

Right now, this second Matteo, the one that was somewhere––some time?––else, was standing. David was standing across from him, maybe an arm’s length away. Or rather, a ghostlier version of David stood there. Matteo could see both illusion-David and trunk of the tree in his vision, two simultaneous images being overlaid, coexisting even in the impossibility of it all.

Illusion-David wasn’t wearing his work clothes, but a jacket overtop a hoodie, and he was staring at Matteo in way that real David had never looked at him before. Intently, like he was drinking him in.

“Okay,” Matteo heard illusion-David say as he stepped closer, until they were nearly chest to chest. Matteo’s breath caught in his throat. Even as a faded, less substantial version of himself, David was stunning this close up.

Matteo felt the standing version of himself lean forward, as if not of his own accord. He felt their lips touch––

Matteo hurled himself from the dream-illusion-lie as he lurched his real body forward, half-stumbling, half-crawling out of the tree. His heart pounded in his ears, a rapid and overwhelming sound. It had felt so real. So real. But it couldn’t be.

Maybe Jonas was wrong. Maybe the tree didn’t show the future, but one’s deepest fears and desires. That had to be it, because there was no way that was real. Myths were misrepresented and misinterpreted all the time.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Matteo felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see David leaning over him, concern in his eyes.

“S’alright,” he mumbled, shrugging off the other boy’s hand as he stood up.

“What happened in there? Did you see something?”

Matteo just shrugged again, pointedly avoiding eye contact by turning his head to the side and away from David and the tree. Without even looking, Matteo could sense the furrowed-brow energy coming from David’s direction, but he still said nothing. He was too afraid he’d give himself away.

The sound of shuffling forced Matteo to look back towards the tree, though. Before Matteo could stop him, David was climbing into the trunk.

“David…” Matteo started, but the sound died on his lips as he watched his friend become enraptured by the tree in the way that he had, staring forward but not seeing Matteo. Seeing everything and nothing at once.

Not wanting to disturb David’s body without his permission since he didn’t know what effect that could have, Matteo settled on pacing the tiny clearing, chewing on the fingernail of his thumb absentmindedly as he did.

At 1:35AM, he wondered where the hell Jonas and Amira were.

At 1:36AM, he thought about the ghost of a kiss, the feeling of David’s lips against his.

At 1:38AM, he wondered if David was seeing the same vision he saw inside that tree.

At 1:40AM, David jolted back to life, stumbling forward like Matteo had, in a dazed haste to break free from the tree.

Matteo couldn’t know for sure, but the look on David’s face didn’t hint that he’d had an impossible kiss. At least, Matteo sure hoped that wouldn’t be David’s hypothetical reaction to such a thing. He was breathing hard, one knee and one hand still on the ground just outside the entrance of the hole. His face looked drawn, and his eyes were closed. When he opened them, his gaze rose to meet Matteo’s worried one, but David immediately tore his eyes away as he jerked back to his feet, wiping the dirt off his jeans.

Neither boy spoke. Whatever was going on in each of their heads was loud enough. Why couldn’t it have just been a _singing_ tree? Instead of one that whispered all of these awful, fearful, impossible things in their ears.

Suddenly, a loud rustling behind them starled both Matteo and David, making them turn, but it was just Jonas and Amira thrashing through the underbrush towards them. Jonas looked more alive than anyone should have the right to at nearly 2AM in the morning.

“Holy shit,” Jonas breathed as he reached Matteo, “is that it?”

“Uh, _ja_ ,” Matteo mumbled. He and David exchanged a look then. Whether they had seen the same thing or not, neither of them seemed to trust this tree and were wary to let Jonas get inside.

“Did you guys try it already?” Jonas inquired, as he inspected the tree from all angles, jotting down notes in his little journal and taking photos on his phone. He looked like a man who’d just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. Amira just stood back, beside Matteo, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah, we did, but Jonas,” David began, the lowness of his voice managing to capture Jonas’s attention, “I’m not sure it’s what you think it is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What did you see?”

David didn’t reply. Matteo saw the muscles in his jaw jump. He was starting to think he didn’t want to know what David had seen inside that tree.

Jonas took David’s silence as sufficient proof that whatever was inside the tree wasn’t severely fatal, and crouched inside. None of them stopped him; they knew that he wouldn’t be deterred from doing what he anyway.

After several long moments, Jonas emerged from the trunk, his eyes looking starry.

“I saw him,” he announced. “I saw Glendower.”

It was 2:00AM exactly.

***

Matteo, more than anyone, knew that the line between dream and nightmare was a blade-thin one.

Sometimes he would be in Cabeswater trying to make some dream object or other, and it would just… slip into something else. A snow globe for Linn would turn into a fireball in his hand, searing his skin and nearly setting the entire forest ablaze, or a new tie for Jonas would morph into a viper, its fangs threatening to sink venom into his neck. Matteo’s good intentions gone wrong. As they always did.

Occasionally, his nightmares would conjure up twisted versions of his friends. Terrifying copies that would seem fine one moment, until their mouths turned into gaping black jaws or their hands became claws or their voices weren’t theirs. In any case, they always left Matteo alone, often waking up in a cold sweat, having to talk himself down and remind himself that his friends didn’t _really_ hate him. Probably.

Other times, Matteo didn’t even have to be doing anything. His self-loathing would just manifest itself on its own as he wandered in the dream.

He called them night terrors, and they were truly frightful creatures. So massive they would blot out the starlight with their beating wings. Their many beaks would attempt to gouge out his eyes as their talons tore at his skin and their horrible screaming tore through his head. All of his daily doubts and insecurities and self-hatred distilled into one body, the strength of each feeling giving the creature muscle and vigor.

His nightmares only wanted one thing: to kill him.

Often, he’d wake up from these nightmares with new rips in his jeans and blood on his face that he had to pass off to others as accidents the next day. Ha ha, typical careless Matteo. Always hurting himself.

All of this is to say that Matteo knew what a nightmare felt like. He knew their effects on the dreamer and how to spot someone who’d just suffered a nightmare. And David certainly looked like a man who’d seen a night horror of some sort.

As they had all retraced their steps back to the Pig––and Jonas and Matteo had returned to Monmouth––as Matteo laid awake that night, and as he walked through life in the days that followed, he had tried to persuade himself that David hadn’t seen the same vision he had.

While the Dreaming Tree was supposed to show observers the future, Matteo’s and Jonas’s could have just as easily been mere dreams, extracted and replayed, but not real. Maybe David’s vision had just shown him something he didn’t want to admit he wanted. Matteo could certainly understand that feeling.

In any case, nothing in their friendship dynamic seemed to have changed so far, except maybe some added trepidation on Matteo’s part. And if David wasn’t going to act like anything was different, then Matteo wasn’t going to either.

Another, much smaller and quieter part of Matteo maintained the theory that the tree did showcase the future. This version of Matteo allowed himself to hope, just a little bit, that one day he might get to kiss David Schreibner. But the rest of Matteo, the majority of him, didn’t let himself linger on this thought for too long, lest something sense his hope and twist it into a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, catch me at @azaraeth on tumblr
> 
> it's getting gayer my dudes! anybody getting a ~soulmate~ vibe, hm?


	4. eight of swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s this about?” David asked.
> 
> “We’re doing a reading,” Hanna stated in a soft voice, her pale skin seemed to glow, “for your future.” David took note of the three sets of Tarot decks resting in the middle of the semicircle of people.
> 
> “Mmm, thanks but I think I’ll pass.”
> 
> “That’s nice,” Mia pursed her lips, smirking, “but we aren’t asking."
> 
> (David struggles with what the tree vision means, and what he wants)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been ready for awhile but I procrastinated on posting it. next chapter might be awhile because i'm in classes, but hope y'all enjoy this for now!
> 
> Hanna's Tarot deck here is based on a real one, the Anima Mundi deck by Megan Wyreweden, which i personally own and love

It had been three days since their gang’s little midnight quest, and David still couldn’t stop thinking about that damn tree vision. Every time he closed his eyes, it just played on a loop. His friends, leaving him. And not just leaving, but ripping his fucking heart out as they turned away, looks of fear and confusion and disgust on their faces. The vision hadn’t shown the reason for his abandonment, but he could guess why.

 _I can’t believe you’d do this,_ illusion-Jonas had cried. _I can’t believe you’d lie._

It couldn’t be real. It was already real. It might as well be real.

David determined that he would do everything to keep this future from coming true. Fuck fate anyway. Nothing said that the vision was _the_ future and not just some possible variation. Everything he’d done in his life thus far had been on his own terms, and he didn’t see why that couldn’t continue. He would make his own future.

He wouldn’t let himself be hurt; and if that meant he didn’t let anyone in, then so be it. David already knew the ultimate truth: _He was Unknowable._

A small part of David ached at the thought of leaving his friends, but he knew it had to be this way. They got him but they didn’t _know_ him. And therefore, he couldn’t count on them.

Sure, he’d met some amazing friends with whom he felt a deep, almost supernatural connection, but he couldn’t let such things distract him from his goals. Keep his head down, go to school and get good grades, go to work and make money, graduate from Aglionby. After this semester, he only had one more year of high school left, and then he could finally be free. From the ghosts of his past, from Henrietta.

They would find Glendower, he would ask for a favor, and then he could leave.

He told himself these things over and over as he stared at the back of Matteo’s head in History and sat smushed against Amira in the back of the Pig and went over ancient texts with Jonas.

The mantra played on, almost drowning out even the music blasting through his headphones, as he biked to 300 Fox Way after work on Tuesday. Amira had asked him to come over, just him. It was only five-thirty in the evening, but as the days were still shortened by spring, the sun had already sunk most of the way below the horizon. The sky shone a deep lilac.

David hitched his bike to the cast-iron fence outside Fox Way, then walked up the cobble-stone pathway to the door. As he approached, he noticed the warmth that spilled out from the windows of the house in the form of yellow light and the sound of barely-contained chaos. He was struck, then, by the reminder that this is what a home was like. He knocked on the navy-blue door.

When he realized that it was probably too loud inside for anyone to have heard him, he let himself in and nearly got his nose taken off at once as something shot through the air, whizzing just past his face. Jerking his head back, David turned in the direction the UFO has come from to see Essam Mahmood and Sam M’Pele clutching their sides, absolutely guffawing with laughter.

“Oh, man, did you see that? We have got to try that again with more steam!” Essam howled. “Can you imagine Amira’s face?” Sam nodded through her tears.

After a few more seconds, Essam finally met David’s gaze and apologized, “Sorry, David, hope you understand that missile wasn’t meant for you.”

David just waved dismissively. “Do you know where Amira is?”

“She’s in the reading room with the other girls,” Sam answered. “Here, I’ll join you.”

Something told David that they had all been waiting for him, even Sam, despite her apparent preoccupation before he arrived. Psychics made you think things like that.

David followed Sam into a room beyond the living room area as she gestured with a flick of her wrist, flashing her long, neon-blue nails that matched her wild mane of curly hair. He gently parted the gossamer curtain hanging in the doorway to reveal the four women: Sam, Amira, Hanna Jung, and Mia Winter.

Hanna and Mia were the other two-thirds of the three-headed psychic trio, which was completed by Sam and supplemented by Amira. Although the Mahmood brothers, Essam and Omar, also lived at Fox Way, the house was predominantly the domain of the women standing before David. It was a place made for and by psychics. It wasn’t just some house of gimmicks for the sake of tourists; even when the psychic hotline was dead and the rooms were empty of customers, it crackled with magical energy.

“What’s this about?” David asked, even as he was distracted by the whimsy of the room; it was painted a deep cobalt blue––even the ceiling––lit by candles, and speckled with shimmering, golden stars. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he saw the stars moving ever so slowly…

“We’re doing a reading,” Hanna stated in a soft voice, her pale skin seemed to glow, “for your future.” David took note of the three sets of Tarot decks resting in the middle of the semicircle of people.

“Mmm, thanks but I think I’ll pass.” It wasn’t that he doubted their abilities––no, he’d witnessed them first-hand when he first met them––he’d just had enough future visions for the week, for a lifetime, really.

“That’s nice,” Mia pursed her lips, smirking, “but we aren’t asking. Now sit.”

David’s eyes found Amira’s; she said nothing, just raised an eyebrow and tilted her head towards the circle. He sighed, knowing better than to protest again, and sat cross-legged on the plush, patterned rug.

“Why?” he dared to ask.

“Because something is about to happen,” Hanna said, “and you’re going to need this wisdom.”

The three women exchanged a glance that communicated things David wasn’t meant to understand. They were one animal, when one moved, another seemed to continue the motion.

“I think we should use Hanna’s deck,” Mia suggested.

Sam feigned extreme offense, “I can’t believe you don’t find my deck appropriate for David.”

David had caught a glimpse of Sam’s deck as she had been absentmindedly shuffling it since he walked in. Every card seemed to depict some couple entangled in lovemaking, even when the card had nothing to do with love or sex.

“Maybe next time, Sam,” Amira smiled.

Hanna passed her deck, facedown, to David, instructing him to cut and shuffle the deck until he felt he should stop. As David hefted the cards, letting them press against his palms and slide through his fingers, he noticed there was an Arabic ballad crooning softly from a record player in the corner. The music, along with the satisfying _fwhppt_ of the cards, soothed him and he felt lucid.

He slid the deck back to Hanna. She drew three cards from the top, placing them in a row on the floor. The design on the backs looked like a solar system, giving the impression that they were each a pool mirroring the galaxy ceiling above their heads.

She flipped the first one, on David’s far left: The Four of Cups.

“You’ve suffered a loss or disappointment in the past, and it’s caused you to be more emotionally disconnected from those around you.”

Hanna’s deck was composed almost-entirely of animal and nature imagery, the cards painted with calming blues and neutrals that, at the moment, seemed to conflict their somewhat dire messages. The artwork of the Four of Cups showed a hermit crab retracted into its shell, only a glimpse of its ruddy claws showing.

David felt his chest tighten. She turned over the middle card: The Eight of Swords, a bat hanging upside-down, cocooned by its wings and surrounded by swords pointed towards the ground.

“You feel powerless, and this scares you. A decision is coming...and when it does, you must be honest with yourself. Only you are holding yourself prisoner.”

David could practically _feel_ the room humming with power, the energy of the cards no doubt amplified by Amira. He had the thought that the Fox Way women were very good at what they did.

Hanna flipped the third and final card. It showed a male black widow spider, suspended at the end of its thread.

“The Hanged Man,” Hanna murmured. “You will soon have to make a decision, one that involves both sacrificing something and surrendering. You’ll have to change your perspective of the situation.”

A breath he hadn’t known he was holding rushed out of David, his shoulders sagging. He looked up, his eyes fixing on each of the four women in turn. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Well, yeah, beanie boy,” David perked a bit at Sam’s use of Fox Way’s nickname for him (all because he’d worn a beanie _once_ , the first time he came here), “it means somebody’s about to rock your fucking world and turn you upside-down, baby!”

David’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Neither Hanna nor the cards (to the best of his knowledge––which, to be fair, was not much) had said anything about romance. He looked to the other two psychics for confirmation or clarification, but, of course, he received neither.

Instead, Mia just shrugged, her golden hair shimmering in the candlelight. “Only you can decide, David.”

 

Later, David sat at the kitchen table with Amira. He nursing a cup of coffee, and she spooning out yogurt from a plastic cup. With the rest of the inhabitants scattered across the house attending to their own businesses, the cacophony of life inside 300 Fox Way had softened into a pleasant backtrack of white noise.

David thought about having to go back to the trailer park soon. Then he thought about the Four of Cups. And then he thought about the vision from the Dreaming Tree. He didn’t know anything.

“Sorry for ambushing you like that,” Amira said, apologetic and sheepish, pulling David out of his own head. “The girls said it was really important.”

“It’s okay,” David assured her. “What else can I expect from a family of nosy psychics?”

Amira offered a weak smile.

“Really, though,” he said, his expression softening. “It was helpful. It was a lot, for sure like– fuck. But I trust you, and I trust them, so if this reading was something you all felt you needed to share with me, then I’m grateful to have heard it.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll still be sure to send you a calendar notification for it next time, so you can work it into your schedule.” They laughed, adding to the homey symphony.

“I don’t really believe in fate, though, so I’m not sure what to make of it all. I mean, I don’t like to think that I haven’t had any control in what’s happened to me or in what will happen,” David said after their laughter had faded. “Do you?”

Amira was silent for a moment, her mouth thoughtful around her spoon, before saying, “It depends. For example, I don’t really think about Tarot as fortune telling. It’s more like… a fortune cookie or a daily religious devotional. The things they say might be true to your present or future, or they might not; they’re not telling your destiny. But they do bring you more awareness of yourself, like a mirror.”

At David’s perplexed expression, Amira continued more gently. “Say you get the Three of Swords, the heartbreak card, but your last break-up or loss was over a year ago. That doesn’t necessarily mean the card is ‘wrong,’ but that it’s pointing you to examine the hurt you’ve experienced and whether you’ve healed or resolved it. Think of them as like, reminders to yourself.”

David hummed in consideration. “That kind of makes sense I guess. You didn’t really answer my question about fate, though.”

Amira brandished her spoon at him. “I don’t have all the answers to the universe, Schreibner.”

She shrugged. “But I will say, I believe that time is circular. So maybe the cards or whatever saying something is ‘fated’ just means that it’s already happened, based on the decisions you _did_ make.”

David wasn’t sure he was convinced, but he thought maybe he could be.

***

The next day, David found himself in the aisles of the supermarket. Jonas was pushing the cart like the dad-friend he was, and Matteo had wandered off to god-knows-where, like the errant child he was. The two boys were shopping to restock Monmouth with food and necessities, and David had tagged along because he didn’t have work until later that evening and because Jonas had mentioned wanting his help in picking out Glendower supplies. Whatever that was...

David also felt bad because, even though he had seen them as much as normal, he felt like he had been avoiding the other boys since the Dreaming Tree excursion on Friday. He’d turned down their proposals to get dinner at Nino’s on Saturday and Monday night, even though he’d had the time. He could tell Jonas had noticed and was hurt and confused. He couldn’t tell what Matteo thought.

“So what do we do now?” David asked.

“Hm?” Jonas made an inquiring noise as he stared intently at the wall of cereal brands, brow furrowed.

“About Glendower. The tree showed you finding him, but we still have no idea where he is or how to find him.”

Jonas turned to David then, a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in his hand. “Right, yes, I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, I think I got preoccupied with the ley line itself and completely forgot about the logistics of it.”

“Think of what?”

“Caves. Glendower is _buried_ , and has been for hundreds of years, which would require some kind of underground chamber, not just a regular grave, for him not to have been unearthed by now,” Jonas started pushing the cart towards the bath & body section. “So all we have to do is search all of the caves located on or around the ley line.”

“Simple enough,” David said, precisely because it wasn’t simple at all. He knew for a fact that there were dozens of caves in the surrounding area, especially considering that the ley line went on for miles and miles in each direction. Nobody said that Glendower was buried in Henrietta.

Jonas plucked some razors and shaving cream off the shelf and tossed them into the cart, where they tumbled into the growing pile of energy drinks, junk food, and boxes of pasta. David, compulsively, did the mental math and could tell the net worth of this cart was already more than his weekly wages. Truly, he didn’t know how Jonas and Matteo lived off of this stuff.

In his own hand basket, David had a carton of milk, various fruits and vegetables, and some chicken breasts. The total so far was about fifteen euros. He’d thought about indulging in a chocolate bar, but then he’d remembered he needed a new toothbrush. As he and Jonas continued down the aisle, David quickly ascertained which brush was the cheapest and tossed one into his basket. That brought his total up to fifteen-seventy-nine.

He glanced up to find Jonas looking at him, his concern apparent. “Is that all you’re getting?”

David sighed. He knew Jonas didn’t mean it in a condescending way; he knew Jonas meant it in a ‘dude, I’m worried you don’t have all of the things that you need’ way.

“Yes, Jonas, this is it.”

“Is it everything you want?”

Now that was an entirely different question. David could parse what he needed: a roof, a bed, electricity, food and drink, sleep, a steady income, maybe a new chain on his bike. _Want_ was something else. A sports car instead of a bike, a watch like Jonas’s, freedom and autonomy, nine hours of sleep, to stare at Matteo without feeling guilty, an A in his advanced P.E. class, a drink that wasn’t milk or water, more than eighty bucks in his bank account, to run his fingers through Matteo’s hair, a chocolate bar, just an hour more of sleep, to leave Henrietta, to stay.

_What do you want, David?_

_More than I’m allowed to have._

Instead, he just shrugged and replied, “What I want is what I need.”

Jonas blinked. Shook his head. Was smart and let the issue drop. Maybe later he would “accidentally” slip a fiver into David’s grocery bag, and David would feel the shame nip at his fingers as he put it into his wallet, but he would be consoled by making a promise to himself to use it to pay for Jonas’s lunch next time they went out.

“Do you think they have caving gear here?” Jonas continued, steering them towards the outdoor section now. “I have some of my own already, but you guys will need some too, and we’ll definitely need more rope. Wait, actually, you stay here with the cart while I go find an employee.” He was gone in a flash of his Aglionby uniform and gold wristwatch.

David was left in the aisle alone, staring unseeingly at the rows of gardening and camping equipment on the shelves.

Jonas, with his never-ending charm, had managed to find an employee who’d provided them with all of the caving gear they could possibly need. David couldn’t bear to look at the cash register as each item beeped, adding to the total. That was Jonas’s stuff.

For all of Matteo’s idle wandering, he had only picked up two items, a bag of cat food and a laser pointer. He had shuffled up to them as they stood in line at the register, throwing his purchases onto the conveyor belt with Jonas’s. David figured Jonas footed the bill now, and they split it later.

 _Are you avoiding me?_ David wanted to ask Matteo, but instead he just walked next to him as they took the cart full of paraphernalia to the Pig. There’s an infinitesimal sliver of space between their shoulders, but it feels like an ocean. If David didn’t know better, he’d say that Matteo was being careful not to let them touch.

They unloaded the bags into the trunk of the Camaro as Jonas went off about which caves they should try first. The other boys offered minimal commentary besides vague noises of assent. David put his own bag in the back seat.

“Oh shit, I forgot to ask about carabiners,” Jonas exclaimed suddenly. “Am I an amateur or something? I’ll be right back.” He jogged back into the store.

David turned to Matteo, who was busy toeing the asphalt with his sneaker, “I didn’t know you had a cat.” He raised an eyebrow as a question mark.

Matteo shrugged, but when he looked up he was smiling, his eyes soft. “Yeah, I just found her last week outside Monmouth. Didn’t see the mom cat anywhere, so after a couple days I took her in. Can’t believe Jonas hasn’t thrown her out yet, she’s a bit of a bitch in the mornings when she wails.”

David huffed, he could easily believe that Jonas would do anything if Matteo gave him puppy eyes about it, especially if it involved an equally adorable kitten too.

“What’s her name?”

“Chainsaw.”

David gave Matteo an incredulous look before bursting out into loud laughter.

“Of course _you_ would name a fucking kitten Chainsaw.”

Matteo pulled a funny face, “And what about it?”

David just smirked.

They stared at each other for a beat before Matteo’s gaze flicked to the shopping cart between them.

“Hey, I have an idea.” His eyes were mischievous. “Get in.”

“Into the _shopping cart_?” David was skeptical.

“C’mon, Schreibner, don’t flake on me now,” Matteo smiled, and it was like the sun, and David knew he was done for.

David climbed into the metal cart, tucking his knees up to his chest and gripping the sides of the cart.

“If you kill me, Florenzi....”

“ _Pshhht_ ,” Matteo shushed, moving to stand behind the cart. “Live a little, Schreibner.”

At that, Matteo let out a harrowing whoop and started running, pushing the cart in front of him. After they’d put on some speed, he jumped onto the back, standing up straight and howling as they careened through the parking lot. God, it felt like they were _flying._

David wasn’t sure if the laughter spilling out of him was from terror or joy. It didn’t matter, the whole world had been reduced to a blue-green blur and the sound of Matteo’s mirrored exhilaration in his ears.

They started to turn and tip, probably because Matteo had taken one hand off the cart to raise it above his head in triumph, and the wheels squeaked shrilly in protest. David tried to lean his weight in the opposite direction, as a counterweight, but he threw his body a bit too enthusiastically, only causing them to spin-out sooner. Luckily, they had mostly slowed down at this point.

The cart crashed to the right, violently spilling out the two boys with a clatter, like a metal-wire rodeo bull that they’d failed to ride. The breath was briefly knocked out of David’s lungs as he hit the asphalt, and he’d definitely have some scrapes and bruises the next day. But he couldn’t help chuckling a bit as his lungs re-expanded. He felt so alive, alive, alive.

He rolled onto his back, laying there spread-eagle, just sucking air. His heart was still pounding in his ears. The sky was the color of infinity above him. David let his head fall to the side to look at Matteo. He was laying on the ground in the same fashion as David, staring up at the sky with his lips parted in a small smile, the look in his eyes euphoric.

One of his outstretched hands was nearly touching David’s wrist.

“What the hell, are you guys _dead_?” Jonas yelled. “What the fuck are you doing on the ground?”

David and Matteo laughed at the sky, slowly sitting up and getting to their feet.

“Don’t worry, dad, we’re fine,” Matteo called. “Just taking our ride for a spin.”

“Did you break that cart?? Put it back right now!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Matteo flipped Jonas off, but he righted the cart and started pushing it to one of the cart collection areas.

David noticed, then, that his heart was still racing. He couldn’t tell if it was residual adrenaline from the cart ride, or if it was something else.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure how much people will be confused by this if you haven't read The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater so... basically, they're searching for a legendary/mythological king, it's a rural/mountain town, Amira is the daughter of a psychic, Matteo can take things from his dreams, and (of course) David and Matteo are soulmates.
> 
> lmk if you have other questions  
> my tumblr is @azaraeth  
> thanks for reading


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